


Long Live the Prince!

by EternalSushi (UndyingSeafood)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Action/Adventure, Decidueye, Gen, Parody, Satire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-09-10 13:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndyingSeafood/pseuds/EternalSushi
Summary: Join the (mis)adventures of the narcissistic Decidius Virigreen - the first grandson and the aspiring prince of royal decidueye, as he slowly learns that the inhabitants of his land want him roasted on a spit.Fall in love with the diverse cast of flawed characters, full of satire and humor. Or enjoy the plot. That works too.





	1. Cloudsmoor Captain Leon

_Decidueye - a nocturnal species renowned for its sophisticated nature...and its steadfast aim._

Tonight, the nonchalant gaze of a full moon had grazed the lands of Cloudsmoor; and deep within the forests, the heat of a campfire drifted through the frigid air, drenched with the scent of burning wood.

It is not often that people associate the moon with disaster, but for the Virigreens, the full moon means harvest. Harvest brings abundance, and abundance brings overindulgence. Overindulgence, as one would know, is a bad thing.

So it was the beginning of autumn, when most leaves had started to change in color, but not quite yet. From within the new layer of fallen leaves, one single Kantonian rattata broke free from nature’s grasp and wriggled, with all its might, onto the surface from his den below. Winter had not come yet, but food - especially berries, would soon become scarce and hard to find in a matter of weeks, after the full moon has gone. One or two orans or pechas could sustain life for a week, maybe more, so any chances of finding such food during this thriving period was a chance worth taking.

He lifted his head and sniffed, taking in a whiff of crackling firewood nearby, but more importantly the familiar aroma of a pecha plant. After scouting about and locating its bearings through scent, the pokemon took off without hesitation, pawsteps light and nimble on the ground. He moved so quickly that he was nothing more than a purple blur.

“Almost there,” he muttered out between breaths, giving himself a little pep talk. The succulent berries were so close! “If I’m early I might find fiv--gack!”

Huge talons had descended from above, three claws grabbing and tightening around the rattata’s neck. The rat was too stunned to react as he was flung at a tree trunk, its tensed, frozen body bouncing right off and landing roughly on the dirt. Heaving, vision blurry, he scrambled back onto his feet and turned to the assailant, teeth bared, yet quickly grew timid and fearful upon meeting the opponent’s half-lidded gaze.

“Ah, l-lord Decidius,” the rat croaked, cowering up against the tree with his tail drooped around his small frame. “H-how nice of you to drop by.”

The decidueye’s expression hadn’t changed. Looking down at the rattata, the prince took a few steps forward, which, in the rat’s eyes, were as if a giant had trampled across the earth. “Hm, I thought I’ve made this clear, Noverau, that berries are owned by the kingdom.”

The rattata squeaked. “Y-yes, my lord, I know very well!”

Decidius’ snort made the poor rat wince, the prince’s smug demeanor radiating off his feathery body, almost. “So you should know that there are designated harvesters for the berries, that would then be sold at the kingdom market.”

Noverau drooped, slumped against the tree. “Cloudsmoor Captain Leon said that the market would close down!"

Raising a brow, the princely decidueye turned to his dispirited subject. “Cloudsmoor Captain Leon would be wrong, then, as the market will certainly continue. Look - I'll let this slide, Noverau, but just this once. Take it as a warning, or your last chance. However you will. "

It wasn't known to Decidius that Noverau himself also had a distasteful opinion on the market. In fact, most of the younger ones, the less strong or the less privileged hated it. But seeing how he had already crossed the prince today, moving on would be the less risky option. Thinking quick, a new topic was quickly selected from his palette to sidetrack their conversation, albeit a dull one in hindsight: "What are you going to do now, then?"

With a sigh, Decidius spun around and took a few steps in the opposite direction, goose-stepping as his chest lifted and fell. Perhaps it was the sigh, or maybe the slow, bold steps, but the poor rat couldn't get rid of that gut feeling - that feeling that the prince was not done yet. "Well, I'll head back to Forest Camp and check the execution list. Apparently they have just executed someone." The last few words were dragged out and exaggerated, much like his facial expressions, which would be comical if he wasn't someone with authority.

Tensing up, Noverau's head began to churn and spin. The prince has a personal list of 'hated men', people had said, and hearing it first-hand just confirmed it. "Who was it, if I may ask?"

The prince looked behind his shoulder with a coy grin. Parting his beak, the response came slow, as if the speaker was savoring each syllable of the word. "Your sister."

Dead silence, as the prince's piercing gaze connected with its target. Though soon, after many seconds of staring at Noverau's frozen, terrified expression, Decidius himself began to look away, dropping that smirk that he one had. His legs and talons shuffled a little as he shifted his posture, clearing his throat in attempt to break the awkward silence. 

"So my sister's..." Noverau eventually opened up, urging more from the decidueye. 

"...Very much alive and fine, yes," came a muttered, embarrassed response, followed by a soft cough. “That was a joke.” 

"So you weren’t being serious?"

"...Yes."

Not knowing exactly how to respond to such an act, the flushing Noverau crossed his little arms as he sat, looking up at the royal bird. Perhaps some insider information would put the large bird on his side. "Well, in other news, Leon’s been spreading bad things about you, my lord. He um, wants you dead."

Secretly glad that the rat had moved on from the awkward topic, Decidius seized the opportunity with a light laugh. _"Leon_?" He spat, face writhed as if the name had left a bad taste in his mouth. "Really? So _Leon_ wanted to close down the market, and now he wants to roast me on a spit?"

"I'm being dead serious," warned the rat. "He's not satisfied with how you rule the kingdom."

"Please," Decidius pressed the top of his wing against his forehead, sighing exasperatedly. "Why would he want me dead?"

* * *

In a tavern somewhere in Cloudsmoor, a midnight-form lycanroc shakily brought his fourth beer glass to his mouth, catching a whiff of the content before giving it a few puppy-like laps at the counter. 

“Why?” sulked the lycanroc, lapping some more before taking a deep breath. “Why must I be cursed with this form? I wasn’t meant for this!” Though he was soon reminded of his manners upon meeting the gaze of the bartender - a dusclops whose deadpan, monotone stare meant nothing but mockery in his drunken mind. 

“Well, nobody could predict when they evolve, Zade. It just happened to be in the night,” said the bartender, his voice just as dull and flavorless as his stare. “Also, I know you’re not used to your new form yet, but you can just hold the glass and drink it without lapping it. It’s really not that hard.” 

Zade hadn’t been paying attention, however, and simply continued to rant on. His eyes were fixated at the chandelier hanging diagonally across the tavern, though his gaze pierced right through. "It wasn't even by choice! I decided to take a nap one evening and then...this!" He pointed at a paw with the other, "Do you even know how it's like when you evolve with legs that feel so...different?"

"Well I’m going to lose mine completely, so..." he shook his head, wiping a beer glass with a cloth all while mustering up a sympathetic look in his one eye. The cleaning proved to be short lived however, as he paused and took in a familiar scene - a large, hulking figure storming into the tavern, the door (which was rivaled by his height) slamming shut behind him. The brief gust of cold air from the slam seemed to had cut everyone off as the place fell dead silent. The only one that benefited from this was Zade, who seemed to had sobered up a bit from the shock. 

"Wow. Leon Amaranth. The hero and captain of Cloudsmoor. What a sight!" Zade jumped off his stool, still somewhat tipsy, and welcomed the typhlosion with open arms. He didn't seem to mind that his glass had fallen. "What's the occasion?"

"Preparing," said Leon as he evaded the hug with a sidestep, an arm firmly pressed against the bar counter. He gestured to the bartender, who nodded back at his presence. "One please." A beer glass skidded across the long waxed piece of cedar, in which Leon quickly caught it with his paw and took a huge gulp from it. Burping ensued right after.

Zade blinked and sat once more, back resting against the counter. Leon is a respectable character whose bite matches his bark - he certainly had the personality to back it. As small talk in the background picked up once more, the lycan inched closer to the bigger beast for theirs. Despite the lycanroc’s attempt to be quiet and soft, there was something in his sharp, scratchy tone that could irritate someone miles away. "So you’ve found ways to overthrow the Virigreens, eh?” 

“Not ways, but people,” Leon grunted as he turned around, eyes darting from one table to another. The candles on them made all kinds of shadows and silhouettes along the brick walls. “Aldric, an empoleon that wants to usurp the throne after we get rid of Decidius. He has quite a bit of determination. And another one’s in this very tavern. Eliza - a zangoose that wants to kill the damn price for...all the wrong reasons. But still, a solid member of the team.” 

“Right here?” Zade pulled back a bit, squinting at the darker tables near the corners of the tavern. A pair of red eyes in the dark, together with an arm within the light of a nearby lamp, were the telltale signs. The pokemon lifted her visible arm, waving wildly at the two by the counter. “Hi, Flamey,” came a soft, silky voice. 

“I said don’t call me by my middle name!” Leon snarled across the tavern, earning snorts and distasteful glares. With a groan, he gestured the onlookers to bug off and flashed Zade a reassuring, though slightly embarrassed, grin. “There’s three of us now, Zade. Since our little lord Decidius wouldn’t take me seriously with my plans on shutting down the market, we will take the initiative...and attack during the next Featherguard patrol.” 

“Is he really that bad?” asked the bartender out of the blue, that one eye now fixated onto the fire type. Somehow, he had managed to still sound monotone with a question. In response, Leon tossed his half-empty glass onto the ground, startling all but the attentive few. 

“He’s slaughtered hundreds that opposed him, encouraged inequality and inter-species hate, put my mother on the execution list, set up a market that rewards those that kiss his metaphorical shoes, and a broken monarchy system which he’ll eventually be the leader of,” he leaned closer with his fists clenched, the fire on the back of his neck crackling and roaring to life. Guests of the tavern appreciated the extra lighting from their newest candle, as they could finally see their meal. 

"Why _wouldn't_ I want him dead? Long live the prince!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. My good friend irl’s first pokemon ever was a typhlosion named Flamey, later named Leon. Flamey being Leon’s middle name was a reference to that.
> 
> 2\. For this story, I have made it so that lycanroc evolution forms are determined by the time they evolve, instead of ‘version exclusives’. It doesn’t really add realism, but what the heck.
> 
> 3\. Leave a comment! Feedback is always appreciated!


	2. No, I'm Decidius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Leon's first attempt (out of many) to hunt down prince Decidius during the Featherguard patrol, at nowhere else but the little town of Cloudsmoor.

_The Featherguard - a decidueye-exclusive military group. Its main role is the protection of the king and all Virigreens._

Decidueye are primarily nocturnal pokemon, but the Virigreens - and the Featherguard that protects them - have skillfully adapted to live off short naps during dusk and dawn. Thus, while the remnants of a once roaring campfire acted as a reminder of passed time, the early morning drills of the Featherguard was a reminder that the species had not only conquered the lands, but their own limitations as well. 

“Lo and behold - the prince’s entry from above.” 

Twenty four decidueye stood pridefully in four by six formation, the middle clearing of the forest camp just barely enough to contain them. All watched as the Virigreen swooped down from the skies, spreading his broad wings and using the momentum to lift himself once more, prolonging his solo performance for all to see. The wind guided him above the blanket of trees, and he indulged, eyes closed, in the attention that he was receiving. Bravo! Bravo! Decidius could almost hear it, and he rolled, maneuvering in the skies like he owned it all. 

Having timed this just right, the bird’s eyes stayed closed as he turned, diving down towards the camp below. Confidence had never been an issue to Decidius, and his final trick - a forward aerial roll into a perfect landing, talons dug into the earth - was icing on the cake at this point. He took a step forward, standing calmly right in front of his personal army, and bowed. 

It was then, and only then, that he opened his eyes, the regular half-lidded gaze mirroring the others in the Featherguard. And as his beak parted, out came that familiar, soothing voice that had charmed oh so many. “Beautiful,” he began. Whether or not that was for himself would be anyone’s guess. “Good morning, as always. Today, we shall be patrolling through Cloudsmoor. Taxes will be collected early next week, so do look intimidating.” 

Much to Decidius’ amusement, a soldier on the second row began puffing out his chest, tip-toeing a little bit while mustering the best frown he could ever make with that expressive decidueye face. “You tried, Roger. You tried,” said the prince with a little chuckle on top, pacing slowly with the wings folded neatly behind his back. He would wait, using the silence against poor Roger and prolonging his embarrassment. 

Decidius, of course, beamed with pride and satisfaction. Deciding to end Roger’s suffering, he eventually lifted his wing and turned to the Featherguards. “Right. So, let’s get to it, men.” He brought down the wing in a vertical sweep, conducting his personal guards and marching beside them. Down sweep, left sweep, right sweep, up. Down sweep, left sweep, right sweep, up. The Featherguards knew this simple rhythm by heart, their unified steps as neat and precise as the beating of their hearts. 

Though, something seemed off to Decidius. On the first row, there was this...dent in the formation, an absolute nuisance to the perfectionist that he was. With a frown, he approached the imperfect group as they marched down the forest path, “Say, what happened to Barry?” 

“That’s Gary’s spot, your highness,” came a voice from the back row. Decidius’ eye twitched just a little. “Gary, then. What happened to Gary?”

“Actually, that’s Larry’s spot. Don’t listen to the one at the back, sire.” 

“Actually, you know what? I don’t think I care anymore. Someone just answer me, please.” 

“Larry Longquill had to go home, your highness. His wife misses him dearly. Um, t-this is his friend Simon Skywing speaking, sire,” said a decidueye on the fifth row, his voice deep yet gentle. For a second there, even Decidius was struck with envy - someone’s voice that rivalled his own? Ugh, damn Skywings. He shook off his thoughts, physically and mentally in front of his motionless birds, then cleared his throat. “Well well. Sounds like someone ought to be on the execution list.” 

The whole band, although still marching at a steady pace, turned their heads in unison as the occasional cricket chirp sounded across the damp forest air. Decidius would stare back, switching his gaze from one avian to the other, before finally giving up by shifting his gaze somewhere else. With an awkward shuffle, the prince gingerly inched towards the vacant spot, joining the first row of his brethren. 

“That...that was a joke, everyone. Gosh,” he muttered in defeat, eyes facing forward to mirror his own men. “Right - I shall accompany you for today. Usual tempo, forward march; we continue this march in silence.”

* * *

Although nobody had kept track of time, the Featherguards’ timely arrival would be no surprise to anyone. Decidius, now in ranks with his men, treaded boldly along the path, one that would widen near the outskirts of town, where the familiar rows of trees slowly gave way to small scattered wooden houses with low, flat roofs. Funny enough, the chaotic, pointillistic placement of these houses contrasted the obviously-better-planned designs of the town centre. Would it be a shock then, if a rattata whispered to another, that Decidius had been responsible for the town’s uninspired design? 

Under the harsh morning sun, shadows trailed the roof of a certain house - the very same tavern where secrets come and leave like the autumn wind. Situated on the roof was the proud ragtag group of ‘freedom fighters’ - Cloudsmoor Captain Leon, Eliza, and Aldric, whose shiny nature and shiny teal skin made him glow like a beacon that didn’t belong.

It was such a charming, peaceful morning too; one would never had imagined that a budding disaster was just a feather away. Leon, for one, had no room for mistakes. Hands pressed firmly against the roof’s ledge, flames of determination burning in his eyes, he was a man of no take-backs; a noble warrior that had earned his respect from town, and a gentleman whose flames had thawed cold, miserable men from their devious ways. 

“So,” declared Aldric, “Today shall be the day which I become king.”

“Not just yet, Aldric. Once we take Decidius out of the equation, the Virigreens will definitely panic - that’s when you’ll come in. You have royal blood within you, no?” Leon scratched his chin, turning his head away from the empoleon as the refracting beams of sunlight proved to be a little too irritating. 

Aldric replied with much enthusiasm. “Definitely so! Decidius’ grandfather, the first Virigreen, loved an empoleon very much. During one fateful night, they--”

“Not interested in the affairs of your grandma, sorry,” said Eliza with a sneer. “Plus, the Featherguards should be arriving soon. Aldric, please prepare your ice beam.” 

The penguin obliged. Bringing his under-wing claws together, a small sphere of ice was created and kept away from the sun’s harm. As soon as his target appeared, an accurate blast of pure cold could prove to be very lethal. 

And there they were - rows of elite decidueye, the pinnacle of their species, patrolling along a nearby street. Suddenly, upon closer inspection of the group, Eliza didn’t feel so confident. “Leon...have you really thought this through?” 

Leon glanced at his partner with a snort, looking away from the large birds. “Why, yes. Decidius always leads the Featherguard from up front. How hard can it be to see him?” 

“I am sorry, Leon, but I can’t locate the royal bird,” Aldric muttered under his breath, his tone bringing urgency as he kept an eye on the Featherguards. 

With a growl, the typhlosion slammed his hand against the ledge. “He should be standing right there with his stupid wing and his stupid conducting! Down sweep, left sweep, right sweep, up! He’s done it a million times!” 

“...He’s not there, chief,” Eliza pointed out, and watched as the hulking figure began to freeze, then slump, then sigh. 

“Well, he...he has a voice, right?” Leon blurted out, jaws dropped at the sight. Why had it not occurred to him that all of them looked the same? Where the heck was their royal prince? One of them? Had Decidius heard about his perfect plan? “Look, one will speak eventually. Decidius has a deep, silky, soothing, voice...” 

Upon seeing Eliza’s blank stare, the typhlosion quickly continued as his cheeks flushed. “By that I mean: once we hear a voice like that, it’ll be him and we can attack.” 

“And what happens next after the attack?”

“Beats me. I’ve never made it that far into the plan. Just shoot once you hear that deep voice. I don’t know anyone that sounds like him.”

Walking through countless stares and rude yet ignored remarks, the Featherguards came to a halt at the town center, the round plaza acting as a turnaround point for the band of birds. They stood, eyes forward in a never-blinking stare, then turned on their talons for a one-eighty degree turn. 

Well, all except for one. Decidius sneered in amusement and joy as Simon Skywing realized his mistakes, spun around clumsily in front of everyone, and parted his beak to apologize. “I-I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry.” 

“Heh, well you should be ashamed of yourself! This just shows--” before the Virigreen could finish, a thin beam of blue raced by, missing his head by a feather. Partially stunned, Decidius turned, only to see Skywing frozen in a block of pure, hard ice. 

“Engage! There, on the roof!” 

Heeding the command of another Featherguard, the birds sprung into action, breaking formation and drawing their makeshift bows. Arrows filled the air, followed by terrified screams of the innocent, as a few shadows darted off a roof nearby. Decidius, still startled from the whole ordeal, huffed and crossed his wings. His command was loud and clear: “Skywing will be alright once we warm him up. Search the alleyways and the roofs - that was an attempted murder.” 

The Featherguard instantly scrambled, breaking up into small teams as they swarmed the town. As chaos ensued in front of him, the royal prince tapped the ground with his talons, shaking his head in dismay; there was something else that was on his mind. Despite his calm demeanor, jealousy boiled in his blood and veins - was that bird’s voice really that much more smoother and deeper,so much so that people had to attack him? Had the prince been dethroned, outmatched by another’s heavenly voice? Trembling in denial, young Decidius paid no mind as three silhouettes slipped past the corner of his eye, followed by a flock of yelling decidueye.

“Damn Skywings! Damn them! They’re too perfect these days.”


	3. Anatomically Correct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloudsmoor Captain Leon tries to get over his past failures, while his two partners set off for more drastic measures.

_Decidueye - a nocturnal species renowned for its sophisticated nature...and its glaring weakness._

A long week had passed since the Featherguard attack, or as Decidueye called it: ‘Simon Said’. Three figures of different heights scurried their way into the old tavern once more, greeted by the faint scent of oran pie, sweaty customers and puke. Sometimes, the three smells would mix into something even less appetizing, yet none complained while their faces twisted in disgust. Surprisingly enough, the muk couple at the corner were not to blame for the stench.

Leon dragged himself to the familiar bartender, feet scraping along the cold cedar floor. Grunting, he took a seat and laid his arm on the countertop with a thud. Empty glasses were knocked to the ground and shattered as he cleared the area in front of him. “Hey, I was getting to that,” said the dusclops, directing his gaze to the slouched champion. 

Leon snorted and stared aimlessly at the liquor shelf, looking right through the ghost type. “It’s in the way, Hector. I’m thinking and I need some space.” 

The lone typhlosion would get none of it, however, as his fellow zangoose and empoleon joined him on both sides, seemingly less moody than their leader. While Eliza ordered three cocktails for the group, Adric would bombard Hector with wine-related queries, determined to find something that was ‘regal as himself’ on the shelf. It’s at times like this when Leon recalled the fun, enthusiastic atmosphere that Zade had brought to the bar, and secretly yearned for it. 

Thankfully, Leon’s mood had finally reached Eliza, causing her to express her raised concerns. “Leon, are you still thinking about last week?” 

“No,” came the response, muffled as Leon shifted and slowly planted his face against the countertop. “Yesterday.”

“You mean when we tried to poison the forest camp’s lake, only to realize that the water flows downstream to your water supply?” 

“Don’t remind me,” he croaked, throat dry. 

“Hey, at least we have matching armbands now, don’t we?” Eliza patted Leon on the back, perhaps a little too hard, and proudly presented a golden band around her right arm. “The star engraved on it means we tried! And since we look no different our own species, this will make us recognizable.” Leon almost regretted this idea, shamefully shifting an arm to beneath the counter just so he could hide his own. 

“I’ve done greater things than this. I was that guy who won all the contests in Cloudsmoor,” he began with a sigh, using the other hand to swirl his drink. “Am I still that guy? Why is doing something for the greater good so difficult?” 

Aldric sat up, determination rekindled. “I have got it! If stealth has failed us, then we shall take the bird by force. A duel! Today will be my coronation day! Zombie ghost man, another please.”

Hector coughed. “Still not there yet. He’s just a prince - and I have a name, sir.” 

Leon, of course, didn’t agree. Aware of the Virigreen’s harsh training regimen, the typhlosion had avoided close combat at all costs. “A confrontation like that will leave one of you dead, and it probably wouldn’t be him. Let’s wait until I come up with another idea to grab his attention - maybe a trap.”

“Go ahead then. Think of your little mouse trap, honey badger,” said Aldric, hopping off the stool. “The mongoose and I will try things our way.” 

The empoleon began striding towards the door, shoving multiple customers to the side. Insults flew, and then, so did the customers that offended the self-entitled penguin. Eliza rolled her eyes and gulped down the rest of her drink before the scent could get any bigger. “I think he means me, Leon. I’ll go in case he needs help. Poor guy might get in a fight before he even leaves the place.” 

“He’ll need some,” Leon muttered, glancing behind his shoulder as a chair went flying across the tavern. Turning to Hector, he pleaded, “Hector, you’re one of the more sane ones around here. What would you do?”

The dusclops reached for Eliza’s empty glass and moved towards the sink, tossing it into the murky water. The deep, thoughtful hum of the ghost-type was mostly overtaken by the massive uproar across the bar. “If your friends fail to make an impact, find the poor and suffering around Cloudsmoor. Start a commotion and bring Decidius to you...but please, don’t tell him that I suggested this.”

* * *

Eliza was in a state of panic. She had traced the empoleon’s steps into the vast Cloudsmoor forest, but she just couldn’t locate the camp through the daunting maze of trees. Even her heightened vision was challenged by the sea of golden leaves that hung loosely from aging pines, cutting her off from a potential lead. That is, until the sound of falling trees startled her. Frightened pidgeys soon filled the air, retreating south as she watched them soar from above. And, as much as Eliza wanted to combat her grim premonition, she lacked the strength in optimism to truly defy it. 

With her mind flooded with nasty visions of her friend’s demise, at least the foreboding sight had brought some hints to the table. “Time to swim upstream, Eliza,” she gulped, taking in a huge breath before clawing her away into the unknown, now having new bearings to guide her way. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for her to find her buddy - as a wall of deciduous ferns gave way to her reaching arms, the forest camp clearing came into view, as well as the fallen trees that Aldric had no doubtedly cut down; that penguin loved symbolism. 

And it seemed like the battle hadn’t ended just yet. Eliza’s eyes were fixated at her own partner, the bold Aldric who limped steadily towards his opponent. Decidius, on the other hand, continued to roll back while firing arrows from a safe distance. For some reason, the owl seemed to be wincing at times. 

“Ow! Curses!” the prince hissed as he plucked yet another quill from his left wing, tumbling sideways to reposition himself. In fact, upon closer inspection, a patch near his humorous seemed rather bare. As he pressed the stem against his makeshift bowstring, the quill solidified, the tip now glowing bright green as he nocked his new arrow into place. 

Within the three mere seconds of this maneuver, Decidius had already taken his aim. The owl’s eyes never left his target, his focus razor sharp. The empoleon limbered on despite this, the earth shaking with each firm step he took. But with that slow, steadfast pace, Decidius was too swift for him - the poor fellow needed to wake up! 

“Aldric, don’t! He’s outpacing you!” 

Eliza couldn’t tell when the prince released his arrow. On the other hand, Aldric’s supreme focus had prepared him for this very moment. A vicious feral snarl escaped his throat and he brought down his armored wing, deflecting the incoming shot. The ricocheted arrow missed the watching zangoose by a hair. 

For the first time, Decidius’ half-lidded expression was replaced with pure, hard shock. A lot was on the line and their pace only quickened as tensions rose. Aldric marched on, each step faster and further as confidence soared. The owl rolled back in response, repeating the same maneuver as more shots zinged through the dry autumn air. 

“Arceus really needs to think twice about His designs!” 

“Ack!” 

“Ugh, that was my good quill!” 

Grunts and groans filled the air as the arrows did too; one, two, three, all were parried and swept away. 

This was Aldric’s chance. “Fight me like a man, bird!” He hollered and launched himself forwards with one hard push of his legs. He aimed for the beak, but his claws didn’t connect. Decidius, swift yet precise, lifted his airborne talons and returned with a jab to the right. Aldric stumbled, momentum lost, wind knocked out of himself. 

“Aldric, I’ll help!” Sensing the urgency, adrenaline willed her legs to carry her and she rushed into the clearing, teeth bared. “This has gone too far.” 

“N-No,” Aldric gasped, lifting his wing and gesturing her to turn back. “This battle shall be marked in history. Mono a mono, owl. Just like the old stories that I heard.” 

Spotting a murderous glint in the Decidius’ eyes brought a sense of dread and unease to Eliza. Something was off. “That’s how people lose in stories, Aldric. Things could end a lot faster if you just let me help you so quit dragging out the fight!” 

“Stay down, my mongoose. T-This is not your fight.” 

The prince almost looked sympathetic for a split second. “Very noble, Aldric Ironheart.” The edges of Decidius’ wings shimmered in a green neon glow as he slashed with warning, razor sharp leaf blades striking his vulnerable target. “Be careful what you wish for,” mused the prince. Each blow was undefended, the savagery alarming even to the petrified Eliza. All she could see was her fallen partner, battered and beaten on the ground. The slashes saw no end, and the occasional groan and twitch were the only signs of his consciousness. 

It was then, and only then, that Aldric finally obliged. His words resembled whimpers at this point. “...Very well. Help, my mongoose!” 

“Good grief!” Eliza sprung, charging at the prince and connected her claws to his face. The sudden hit knocked him back, leaving him startled. Checking for injuries, Decidius licked his beak, tasting blood - that slash on his cheek was too close for comfort. 

“Is he really worth saving?” asked Decidius, closing the distance between him and Aldric once more. He stomped on the empoleon’s stomach with his talons, earning a gasp of agony. 

Eliza took a few cautious steps forward, holding up her claws and taking a defensive stance. She could feel her confidence plummet as his gaze pierced right through her. “This...this isn’t just for him. This is for me.” 

Decidius was genuinely surprised. “Have I...met you before? Killed anyone in your family?” 

She could remember every second of it. It was a duel - the one important duel between mortal enemies. It was a seviper, of course, of the neighboring clan, here for a battle to the death. But Eliza was young - she was trembling, cowering against a tree as her opponent gained the upper, but as the seviper lunged, it happened. An arrow pierced through its skull, arrowhead on one end and the fletching on the other. No! That kill was hers! All zangoose and seviper are raised knowing that they’d fight the enemy on one fateful day and this...owl, ruined everything! 

And she could remember the very words that he said. Those haunting words. 

“Brilliant! That seviper would be great for soup.” 

After hearing her story, Decidius was dumbfounded. “Really? That’s why you want to kill me?” 

By then, Eliza had already turned into a sobbing mess. “You have no idea how much it actually means to fight a seviper! It’s what we were born to do!” 

Decidius shook his head in dismay. Lifting his weight off Aldric, the owl made his way to the emotional zangoose, stopping as he wrapped a wing around her. “You know, that’s...quite messed up,” he began, a smug, condescending smile at the side of his beak. The next words came as a whisper as his wing glowed around the fearful pokemon’s neck.

Why did challenging him look so easy for Aldric? What was she even thinking? 

_I’m so sorry, Flamey…!_

“But not as messed up as I am, dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Thanks for all the support so far! Again, feedback and/or reviews are greatly appreciated.
> 
> 2\. If you didn't know, seviper and zangoose are said to be mortal enemies in the pokedex. For decades they have been fighting each other for superiority, so a deathmatch between the two is the most important even of their lives.
> 
> 3\. Simon Said. Geddit? Heh. Cause Simon said something and he got-eh nevermind.
> 
> 4\. Happy Holidays! The next chapter might take a few days due to Christmas and visits and friends and whatnot. I'll see all of you soon!


	4. Runs in the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decidius has a little family reunion, Eliza finally reveals her secrets, and Skywing gets his butt kicked.

_Virigreen traditions - the youngest son is often the heir to the throne. This is done because the king believes he can learn from his previous parenting mistakes and raise the next child to better effect._

At the far northern corner of Cloudsmoor, a lone castle stands against the test of time. The scene was still and devoid of life, except for the one decidueye who had landed before its front steps.

As the arched doors creaked shut behind him, the prince took his time and ventured down the hallway with a calm, steady stride. His talons made no sound on cold granite, though the chilling wind howled - one swift, sudden gust could knock anyone off their feet. Stained glass on the ceiling took on a sinister glow on sunny days like these, with series of shadows splayed across his path as he maneuvered in and out of them.

“A letter from my oldest brother, Brunswick,” Decidius uttered to himself, voice bouncing off the cold walls. “Either someone’s dying, or dead. That bastard doesn’t care about anything else.”

There was something about the timing of the letter that didn’t feel quite right to him, and, upon reaching the master's chambers, his doubts proved to be true. On the bed lied a certain decidueye, whose gaze was merely a shadow of his past glory. He coughed, pulling his blankets up to his neck, still shivering beside the fireplace.

“Son...come...” he trailed off, the king’s fading voice almost foreboding.

Decidius snorted. “Which one, dad?” He sneered, yet ultimately obliged by stepping up towards his bedridden father. A wing grazed Decidius’ cheek as the glazed, lifeless stare went right past him. As much as the prince hated to admit it - his father’s condition had worsened a lot over the last few weeks.

“You have your grandfather’s eyes,” spoke the king. “You’re meant for greatness, my boy…”

“Dad, we all look the same,” came Decidius’ response, turning away and refusing to meet his father’s gaze. He wished to remember his dad as a strong, determined individual with a heart and will of iron; this display was simply too out of character for him.

The king coughed and wheezed in quick succession. Even his son winced and took a step back. “Shut up and let me talk, Decidius Virigreen. You’re always the rebellious one - it’s not hard to tell you apart.”

“Well, i’m all ears. What is it today?”

“Not to ruin your mood or day, son, but I believe my days are numbered. My condition has only worsened, and it's getting bad fast. You...you’re the youngest boy in the family - I’m certain you know what that means,” he gripped his son’s shoulder with the wing, a sense of urgency in his words. “Let’s...give you a little test. To see if you know what to do when the situation in your hands.”

“I...don’t seem to follow.”

“Well, you know how we’ve been at war on the western front for about a year now. We have lost ninety percent of our own men, vastly outnumbered. We were flanked at night - a mistake made by a brother of yours. He paid with his life. If I was out there...”

Decidius stepped in by interrupting him, raising a wing to make a point. “We’d be at better odds thanks to your tactical brilliance, yada yada. You said that last time, dad, but you're not going there anytime soon. You're too sick--”

“That’s not my point,” warned the king. He lifted a wing and shook one of his fingers, “What would you do next, if you were king? Would you order a retreat? Think carefully.”

Knowing that his father wouldn’t take a simple answer, Decidius tapped his chin and began pacing around the room. It took him a few moments of careful calculations, but his response was confident and, well, quintessentially Decidius.

“Well, you’d want me to consider all the outcomes, right? Of course you would. If I were to retreat, I’d still lose about five hundred men, and probably face widespread humiliation from my people. My reputation would be tarnished. People would lose faith. At least, if I were to keep fighting on, the soldiers would die in glory and the defeat would be an honorable one. They’d die in peace knowing that they have done great service, and negotiations with the neighboring kingdom might be more forgiving...since they value honor over everything else.”

It could simply be the candles beside the king, but his eyes sparkled with rekindled life. “I knew you’d make the right decision, son. Ultimately, five hundred men...they’re all expendable. After all, that's only a fraction of the army.”

“Right,” came Decidius’ response. He was moreso thinking how nice he’d look in his father’s crown. “And the families would be too busy mourning for their losses to take any drastic actions. If they do, the Featherguards will stop them.”

“Good. You're thinking of the bigger picture,” the king sighed out in relief, relaxing and sinking further into the soft mattress. “Anything else?”

Decidius raised his head with pride. “To compensate and keep their mouths shut, we would offer a special discount to the families of the fallen. They'd have more food for a week or two.”

“I've taught you well,” the king returned a faint smile. “You're not the cleverest of all sons, nor the most obedient, but your confidence is something the others really need. I’ve finally learnt how to nurture someone correctly, after six failed attempts.”

“Congratulations on finally getting it right then, dad. The perfect formula.”

“Heh, well thank you. Now, please excuse me for a moment. It's time for my personal afternoon tea.”

The prince rolled his eyes. There were some things, Decidius concluded as he walked along familiar halls, that he didn't quite like about his father’s mindset. But oh well, his old man was going to die anyway - complaining would be redundant now. These halls would soon be his.

* * *

Eliza grunted and limped, clutching an arm with her hand as she inched across a small, unfamiliar hallway. Compared to the other areas she had visited, this one seemed old and out of place with bare, naked suspensions and pillars of cedar. Each step she took was almost dead silent, but the occasional creek would sound from the wooden floorboards. As distant footsteps drew near, the hiding zangoose watched at the corner of her eyes with gritted teeth. She shifted and inched a little to the right, hiding within the shadows that the pillars had created. It was Decidius alright - wings drooped like a robe, his beak up as he walked.

Despite her calm state and composure, one nagging thought had refused to leave her. It kept occurring to her that Decidius had released her after landing a few blows, all seemingly weaker than the ones inflicted on poor Aldric...and she had to know why. Lost in thought, she jolted as a familiar ‘twang’ struck the other side of the pillar - an arrow lodging into wood as the vibrations rippled against the back of her head. Her surprised squeak echoed perfectly across the hall thanks to its nice acoustics.

“Come out,” came a low growl. “I could taste your fear. It’s delicious.”

Normally, Eliza would had gingerly obliged and acted without a word, but the bizarre nature of Decidius often caught her off guard. Instead, she managed to storm out with legs thumping, hands clenched with her cheeks flushed. “O-oh shush, you! How’d you know I was here?”

The piercing, condescending gaze of the owl made her want to shrivel back into a ball.

“Where else would you go if I dumped you in the middle of the forest?” Decidius raised a brow, legs raised high as he marched past. “There’s only two things you could have done - pick up your unconscious friend, or come after me, miss…”

“Eliza,” she muttered in embarrassment. That penguin had slipped her mind. “Your deductions skills are pretty neat...but that doesn’t really explain how you know i’m behind this particular pillar.”

“Oh. Well, your ear was sticking out from the side.”

“A-ah,” Eliza responded, her spirits reaching rock bottom. She was desperate to change the topic and quickly acted upon it. “I...heard a little bit of that conversation you had.”

Decidius didn’t look alarmed. “Oh, well then you must be thrilled to know that my coronation won’t be too far away from now.”

“Totally.” Her attempts at avoiding sarcasm had completely failed her, but the owl didn’t seem to mind.

“Funny, too,” said the prince, pacing back and forth with a wing on his chin. “That penguin of yours thought he could steal the crown from me.”

“I-is he actually of royal blood?”

“Maybe. Quite possibly. But not enough - too distant. He’s a delusional one, thinking that a penguin could work among us.” Decidius turned to meet her gaze. The glint of sadism in his eyes struck fear into Eliza’s heart. “Plus, I doubt he’d be fit enough to run the kingdom in his current condition.”

“I-I see.”

“Say, miss Eliza...why did you fight me? Was it your sense of justice and righteousness, or was it a personal vendetta of some sort?”

Eliza’s head spun. Where had it all begun? Many had asked her, but it wasn’t a story that she’d tell on a whim - it was one of embarrassment and humiliation, a tale of vengeance. As memories flooded her mind the whole scene played out right before her, just like watching a game of chess. She saw the mess that she had been three years ago - younger, more naive, but a teen with a vision. She had failed in academics, in finding a group of loyal friends...in life, even.

But there was one thing she was destined to do, one fateful event planned by the stars and her ancestors. Legend has it that zangoose and seviper have been rivals since the creation of time and space. Eliza, just like her parents, siblings and grandparents, would one day encounter a seviper and engage in battle. The battle would have their lives on the line, and only one lucky individual would come out alive. Most seviper and zangoose grow up preparing for that one fight for glory.

Yet, it wasn’t nearly as tooth-grinding for her. Eliza, the runt of her family, the laughing stock of her species, found herself cornered in the fight. Her enemy - a strong-willed seviper who had stalked the zangoose for days, planning in secret before finally striking her at the outskirts of town. In the theatre of her mind, Eliza saw herself backed against a tree as her destined enemy slithered on, fangs bared.

And just when the snake was about to strike, it happened. _He_ happened. A trembling, whimpering Eliza gasped in horror as an arrow pierced through the skull of the beast, swift and precise. The seviper, frozen with his eyes gaping wide, toppled over without a sound. Though Eliza’s fear had paralyzed her, her eyes landed upon a decidueye as he whistled and landed on the dead snake. He gave it a few jabs with his talons, squeezed its flesh as if he’s measuring it, then licked his beak with a shrill of excitement.

“What a fine catch! This would be great for snake stew! Delicious.”

And Decidius never even caught sight of the poor zangoose. She had been saved, yes, but her only goal in life - the one thing she could strive for when everything else had failed, was taken away in one swift strike. How could one lose the meaning of life in just a second? How could her duty be done by someone else who didn’t even acknowledge her presence?

Eliza’s life crumbled before her very eyes. She was meant to die. How dare Decidius take away even that from her? So, the only way to redeem herself...was to kill the killer.

And so, Eliza told Decidius everything...and Decidius listened, ultimately ending up with a dumbfounded look on his royal face. “I really said that? _Snake stew?”_

“As much as I don’t want to admit it...yes. T-that was my moment of glory, you big feathered scumbag! I didn’t win, I didn’t lose...you left me in limbo! My only redemption was to kill him or die!” said Eliza sulkily. A whimper escaped her throat as she turned away, an arm against her eyes. She sobbed and sobbed, the emotions overwhelming her previous fear and embarrassment.

And, to Eliza’s surprise, she felt a feathered wing on her left shoulder. Trembling, she looked up and saw an unfamiliar face. She had associated Decidius’ face with many things - mockery, belittlement, intimidation...but never had she expected this reaction.

“I…” he began, clearing his throat. A moment of silence ensued, and to Eliza’s disappointment, he simply withdrew his wing and crossed his arms with a huff. Turning about, Decidius began walking away. “Let’s...have lunch sometime, miss Eliza. On me.”

Yet, perhaps that was enough for Eliza. Decidius would disagree and argue to save face, but his softened voice had spoken a million words. A small smile found its way onto her lips as she sniffled. “Thanks, jerk. I’ll take your word for it.”

While Eliza’s day had gotten considerably better, the owl would soon face yet another issue on his plate. Only five minutes had passed since his conversation with the zangoose, and he was already confronted by a panicking Featherguard. He was holding a scroll, crumpled up and brutally handled, but hopefully readable.

“Jerry Shortquill, what’s the meaning of this?” Decidius demanded, reaching out and slapping the bird in the face. Only then did the Featherguard calm down with deep breaths.

“S-sorry, your majesty,” came the fidgety response, “But I bring news from the town of Cloudsmoor. The trading market has been destroyed! People are in panic as some hooligan established a fighting ring at the town center--”

“The whole market? Destroyed? Well, someone’s not happy with my system! A fighting ring for what?”

“I-I don’t know! He’s looking for freedom fighters, and anyone that’s with the king and prince are challenged to a duel. Even Simon was defeated!”

“Simon? Skywing?” Decidius’ face lit up as he chuckled. “A Skywing, defeated! Oh the humanity!”

“Y-you don’t get it, sire! I think he’s trying to grab your attention. I think he wants to fight you.”

In the distance, a ring of rubble had risen at the town center. Sand blew in the arid autumn air as onlookers watched beyond the wall of burnt planks and stone. A curious young cubone ran over to a closer look, only to scream at the sight of an unconscious, beaten Featherguard lying limp on a pile of fallen challengers. But even they had been shoved to the side of the arena without much care - a reminder of their failures and, perhaps, their bravery against the champion. In the midst of sand and dust in the air, the eye of the storm - a sole, hulking figure stood in the center, fire radiating off its mane. His voice boomed across the town as he made his final declaration.

“I am Leon Amaranth. I have defeated those that defended the royal scum of the earth. Now...bring me your prince!”


	5. An End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conclusion to the short satirical story.

After all the commotion, the town center was as good as dead. Many had scattered and run upon hearing Leon’s ultimatum; only few remained to watch beyond the fighting ground, curious to see if their prince would answer his call. 

And after what Leon had done to the trading market, their prince couldn’t say no to such an invitation. The shadow of a winged creature marked his approach, the princely owl circling the field like a vulture before landing on the pile of failures. “Wow,” he exclaimed, gently kneading on his limp Skywing mattress. A groan sounded from the bottom of the stack. “I didn’t expect anyone to defend me, yet I have an entire pile. I’m flattered! So this is Leon’s idea, eh? My loyal captain?”

Answering his call, a silhouette emerged from the sandy veil with a constant faint crackle of burning fire. As the sandstorm died down, the revealed typhlosion slammed a foot into the ground and uttered a low growl.“Behind you.” 

Decidius didn’t respond, leaving his enemy puzzled in his wake. The prince surveyed the playing ground, wings tucked behind his back.

“Hm.”

The round arena became nothing more than fine lines on a blueprint as he scanned across the field - wooden barricades around the edges, easily flammable. Sandy ground with mud and dirt, suitable to put out small embers. No ceiling, giving him the edge should he fight in the air. The pile of defeated pokemon against the edge...insignificant, but great for meat shields. 

At last, talons dug into the dirt as he stopped and turned, the emotionless complexion landing upon his adversary, Leon. “Hi.”

Leon shuddered, his fiery mane wavering for a second before roaring back to life. “I’ve destroyed your market, Decidius. The goods are spread evenly among the tow--”

“Then I’ll tax all of them - make them pay more than the market’s regulated price,” said the owl, strutting towards the typhlosion until their heads were a feather away. A soft snicker escaped the prince’s beak. “And they’ll give you their thanks, Cloudsmoor Captain.”

On most days, Leon is the steely, headstrong type, where no words could ever harm him. Unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those days. “T-They won’t blame me! They’ll hate you for taxing them even more when we try voicing our concerns!”

“Right. And this is how you voice their concerns? By creating chaos and hoping that I’ll take note? You’ve done nothing, Leon “Flamey” Amaranth. Nothing.” As the prince looked behind his shoulders, his piercing gaze, nearly glowing, sent a shiver down the typhlosion's spine.

It appeared that the fiery beast had met his match. 

Seeing how there was no response, Decidius pushed on - taunting, snickering, a sly grin on his beak. “Well. This is what you want, right? A fight? Our little ‘conflict’ has overstayed its welcome, captain. Let’s...end this.”

Leon held his breath. Blood boiled in his veins. Yet, he stayed put, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him.

Decidius, however, wasn’t one that’d back down from a fight. He trailed a talon across the dirt, sprawling his wings in a lowered crouch - a defensive stance. “Yes, let’s...end this little charade before we reach the next chapter of our lives, shall we? Nobody really wants a sixth.”

Every word sent a blade deeper into Leon’s pride. This bird knew nothing about courtesy, his words drenched in intimidation, his presence oh so overwhelming. For a prince, there was a lack of proper etiquette. 

“...Etiquette will have to wait. Screw this!” 

Leon lunged, driving his fist right into Decidius’ stomach. His muscles almost ripped from the impact. A small splatter of coughed blood stained the fire-type’s cheek as the prince’s talons skidded on the sand, the cocky owl pushed back by more than ten feet. 

Decidius returned a hateful glare, a bit of red trickling down the side of his beak. “Attitude, attitude. I expected more from you, captain,” he hissed, wiping the blood off with his coverts. 

“Yeah?” Came the response, followed by the loud slam of one’s feet. The ground beneath them tremored, a wave of seismic energy spreading like a ripple on water. Still recovering his breath from the attack, the prince squeezed his eyes shut and took flight in a jiffy, hovering above the battlefield as he looked down on his enemy. 

Yet Leon wasted none of his time. His legs parted as he brought himself closer to the earth, arms slowly lifting from the ground as an updraft began to form. Sand was soon picked up by the vortex, the typhlosion hidden in the makeshift shroud. 

“Well, I’ll be. Since when do typhlosion learn sandstorm? That’s illegal!” Decidius croaked, narrowing his eyes as he stayed airborne; the majority of flying sand wasn’t high enough to reach him. 

“That’s one thing your close-minded brain can’t comprehend, Decidius,” replied Leon within his protective veil, looking up at his adversary through thin gaps in the sand. “We evolve! We pass the best onto our offspring; we learn new tricks over time, to help us get stronger - to survive.” 

“That’s nonsense,” the prince retorted, his gaze shifting rapidly in attempt to locate the blazing foe. Under the ever changing vortex, the typhlosion’s limb would appear for a second, then a leg would reveal itself before being covered once more. “We a have a chart and list of the moves we learn and can’t learn. There are no exceptions!” 

“Well, this is proof, ain’t it? The first evolutionary breakthrough in a decade,” Leon grinned with bared teeth, crouching down and bringing his hands together. A small orb of red energy began to materialize between them, conjured by pulsing energy within. The typhlosion locked onto his target, shifted and spread his legs for better balance, and pitched it with all his might. “And you’re too elitist to accept that we’re slowly evolving to better you!” 

No bird could dodge such a swift, precise projectile, especially in such a short range. Decidius did all he could upon seeing the menacing orb - brace for the impact and hope for the best, but the strike never hit him. Startled, the airborne bird turned his head around just to see it soar into the distance, as if it had phased right through him and paid no mind to his wellbeing. 

Decidius parted his beak, looking back at the shroud below that was slowly due to fade. “Was...was that a focus blast, dear captain?” 

“I...I forgot about typing, for a moment,” came a muffled response, followed by the bright, unmistakable slap of hand-to-face action.

The prince, who had momentarily lost his cool in the face of danger, let out a snicker. As the vortex began to dissipate, the decidueye descended with his wings crossed, kicking the sand almost mockingly beneath him. “Please tell me you have a fire type attack? Though, the lack of one is starting to speak for itself.” 

“I’ve...lost it,” Leon admitted, red in the face. He shall not speak of that one hot night at the daycare - especially since he was drunk and apparently hypnotized by a seductive ditto. Long story short, the poor fellow ended up with some of his moves switched up and a lot more than what he had bargained for. 

“You’re joking right? This is good as finished then!” Decidius waved a wing, letting out a dramatic sigh. A step to the left, a step to the right...and the cliched sigh with the wing on his forehead. The arrogant bird was too caught up with his own acting to notice Leon getting into a crouch - thought admittedly, Decidius wouldn’t have cared either way. On the other hand, Leon had kept a paw out of the prince’s sight, with purple claws of energy forming by his knuckle. If he had been waiting for a prime chance to strike, this was that chance.

“Well, let’s see if you like this!” WIth a roar, Leon leaped into the air, coming down upon the wide-eyed owl with a vicious Shadow Claw swipe. The attack hit its mark right across the face, drawing blood, before the assailant was pushed back with a strong backwing slap. 

But Leon wasn’t done yet. Skidding across the dirt, he launched himself against the dazed decidueye. Decidius dodged one slash, then the other, but soon found himself tackled by the unrelenting beast. They rolled, tackling and struggling for dominance, until Leon’s superior strength allowed himself to pin the bird down, a purple claw pressing against the prince’s neck. 

“Well?” Leon leaned in with a growl, the tip of a claw poking through the feathers, ready to pierce flesh. 

Decidius, aware of the threat before him, croaked. “Fine. I-I yield. Just this once.”

They exchanged the sharpest of stares, the bird holding his breath while the typhlosion continued with his demands. “I’ll have to stop with your childish demeanor and--”

“What, step down as prince?” came the response, taking Leon by surprise. Seeing how Leon had loosened his grip, Decidius continued on in a calm, composed manner, losing its previous hostility. “Let me go.”

“I’ll slash you again if you do anything weird,” said Leon, standing up with his claws still drawn. His eyes were wary, darting from Decidius’ wing to his leg. He had established a long time ago that this bird was not to be trusted - and yet, why did he trust him then?

With a groan, Decidius helped himself up, brushing the dust and dirt of his wings. There was a tense moment of doubt and mistrust between the two, but the owl’s moves were slow and calm, much to Leon’s surprise. After exchanging hesitant nods, Decidius disregarded the faint, emotional music in the air and turned to the coincidental and well-timed sunset. “So you want me to step down then? So the kingdom would lose its new king?”

It didn’t take much time for Leon to connect the dots. “Wait. Is the king--”

“Very soon,” came the response, softer than most. “He’s...expecting a lot from me. I promised him that I’d continue the war after his departure, but…”

“But?”

Decidius looked behind his shoulder. “I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt.” 

Leon’s expression softened. Just a little. “Well, I’m not telling you to step down I guess, but...you need to…”

Decidius raised a wing, interrupting the conflicted beast. “Stop acting like a spoiled brat? It was...never meant to last anyway. Being flamboyant and cocky’s a part of being a prince - it’s a privilege...to be able to do whatever I want, however I want.” He trailed the ground with a talon, letting out a soft sigh. “But I imagine things will be different soon. I was just...enjoying my last moments of being...irresponsible, if you’d call it that.”

“Well, what about the market? Are you still going to tax them heavily or…” 

Decidius chuckled. “Well, a short story has no room for politics, especially if it’s about capitalism versus communism. You’re not expecting a detailed response regarding the economic integrity of the town, are you? I’m sure…I’m sure I’ll find a way. I’ll have the market rebuilt soon enough. Does that... _satisfy_ you, captain? Are you going to be happy with me, then?”

Leon couldn’t help but blush. “If I’m not just imagining things, it’s almost like you had other--”

“Let’s end this little conversation before the writer develops it into something completely different, alright?” Decidius snapped, then turned back to Leon with a grin nobody would had expected - a modest, sincere grin with lax, half-lidded eyes. “I’ll need time. When father leaves, i’ll be in power soon enough. I’m not expecting to be the best ruler, Leon, but I’ll rule it my way. And...well, hopefully it’ll be something you can agree with.”

As the emotional music continued to soar, and cherry blossoms danced in the distant winds, you could almost hear these voices cheer: “Long Live the Prince!”

Though, for a story like this, even you’d agree that even that would be too cliche.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations and kudos for actually reading this to the end! Thanks for being a part of this satirical short story - after all that's really what this really is: a story that's serious, but not that serious. In a future date, if i'm interested, I'd write one-shots of other characters within this world, perhaps in a more serious tone, but that's something that isn't set in stone. Thanks for reading, and have a nice one!


End file.
